The True Alpha: Invictus // jjk

17: Survival

A/N: I really have no words enough able to fully express how thankful I am for the support I have received on this piece of work. Genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for the 100k reads on the first book of TTA. I will continue on working hard to provide better stories, better lines, metaphors, symbologies and words. I love you. May the stars always twirl in your favor

Namjoon's eyes trembled violently; in vain, his gaze attempted to focus on his hands. Yet, like a blurry image or a speeding car, they escaped from his sight. He just wanted to make sure and sense of what he was seeing; what was that liquid in his hands? It was gooey and thick; it had a darkish tone to it? Was it blood? How had blood gotten to his hands? All he remembered was reaching out to pick Jungkook up from the bed, the empty and dull sounds of his feet stomping the oak floor of the house, the hot and humid morning like a day marked by fire. Blood? Jungkook didn't bleed? Did he?

And yet it was clear, the scene that was unfolding. What more signs, did Namjoon want to face that Jungkook was... It was in his arms that the Alpha's body dangled, swaying at the rhythm of his heartbeat that panicked, searched for some sort of reassurance in the silence that used to be filled with Jungkook's breathing. But there was nothing besides Namjoon's own being. The skin was cold, it was fading into a colour only the dead carried. The panic and the despair were so grand and overwhelming, in the rush, he had forgotten to close Jungkook's eyes that, throughout it all, stared at a scene afar – her and the child vanishing, the dream crumbling, the future fading.

The room of Jinsang's small cabin was turned upside down; the voices of terror were numbed out in Namjoon's ears. The other betas and the old man shouted at one another with orders; they shuffled, bodies clashing into one another as they all hoped to contribute with the salvation that usually, Jungkook was the one to enact upon them all. Only Namjoon remained frozen in the room, gazing perplexed at his bloodied hands.

"You're bleeding" The voice echoed in his head; childish and yet, monotone, like he remembered it to have been, and still, so different from the one he heard in the present. "Aren't you going to do something about it?"

Rapidly, Namjoon blinked his eyes; and like the mist vanishing, his hands stopped. Hesitantly, he peered at the bed in which Jungkook laid; eyes still wide open, none of them had the courage to close them, to put an end. Instead, they all wished to do the opposite. To pick up with their hands, the thread that connected Jungkook to them and this world; to tie back together, to fix him into one. However, the thread seemed to had been taken away alongside Hani; or perhaps, he had given it to the girl, long before either of them knew.

"You don't bleed when we train" In a joking tone, that still carried the distance between the young boy and Namjoon, the voice spoke again. Once more, Namjoon blinked. It sounded familiar. No, it resembled someone, didn't it? "But can't cut the vegetables without almost stabbing yourself to death... And then I'm the reckless one." Jungkook?

"You are lucky, I sensed this would happen today and came prepared." A hand reached forward, in front of Namjoon's eyes; the alpha couldn't distinguish it from reality. The scene seemed to be blending with the image of Jungkook's numb corpse. "I kept it. So, here. Have it back. It's yours."

It was a greyish toned fabric, a rag from an old shirt that Namjoon had given Jungkook. It dangled from the young boy's slim fingers, waiting for Namjoon to take it in his hands. Shakingly, the alpha raised his head to face the young boy's face; the eyes full of youth, the slightly furrowed eyebrows, the stern lips, and yet, playfulness and rather, amusement in his features, a signal of life. Back then, it was rare the day he wasn't bruised.